


Muted

by quietresilience



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Deleted Scene, F/M, Friendship, Grief, moving forward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 01:06:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1920870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietresilience/pseuds/quietresilience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deleted scene: Lydia helps Malia study, and Stiles asks why</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muted

Walking into the library, Lydia spots Malia and Stiles leaning forward on opposite sides of a table, whispering to each other, books scattered between them.

Pressing her lips together, she crosses the large room, sitting beside Malia.

Setting her own books down, she asks, “Still need help?”

Malia nods vigorously, searching for one of the many books on the table.

“I don’t understand the science homework at all.”

Lydia glances at Stiles who meets her gaze with a small smile.

Her attention returns to Malia, who hands her a notebook full of equations and definitions.

She skims her writing, asking, “Did you color-code the reading?”

Malia nods and grabs their science book.

“I don’t really understand why I’m doing this, Lydia. It’s almost all red. I get it—I don’t know anything.”

Stiles’ head tilts back. “Wait—you taught her the thing with the highlighters?”

Both girls’ brows furrow as they stare back at him.

“Yea,” Malia answers simply, “She said it would help me figure things out.”

Lydia drops her gaze, refusing to meet Stiles’ eyes.

“Alright, let’s start here.”

 

* * *

 

 

Three hours later, Stiles can barely believe the girls are still studying.

He’s gotten up about a dozen times: to stretch his legs, retrieve snacks, and call Scott. He’s finished all his homework and even worked ahead on assignments.

He figured Malia would eventually grow tired, but she seems buoyed by Lydia’s help. He can actually see the moments where she makes connections and figures out the answers.

Lydia smiles and gives small encouragements, but keeps them on task, working through their science textbook quickly.

Finishing the last answer, Malia nearly bounces in her seat, a large grin on her face.

Lydia raises her brows, forcing a smile as she cracks her neck.

For just a moment, her eyes slide shut and her shoulders bow forward.

Stiles catches the movement and asks softly, “You ok?”

Lydia’s eyes pop open and she paints on a smile. “Yea. I’m gonna head home. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Stiles nearly falls out of his seat as he stands with her. “You need a ride?”

She shakes her head, clutching her books tighter. “I drove.” Her eyes slide to Malia. “You did good. You’re getting it. We’ll tackle history tomorrow?”

Malia nods, barely glancing up from the books on the table, still wearing the same grin.

Lydia meets his gaze for a moment, before spinning and walking quickly towards the exit.

 

* * *

 

He catches up with her in the parking lot.

“You sure you’re ok?”

Throwing her bag in the car, Lydia leans one hand on the hood, leaving the door open.

“I’m fine, Stiles. Shouldn’t you be driving Malia home?”

He shakes his head, adjusting his backpack. “She’s so excited, she wants to run home.”

She chuckles affectionately and ducks her head.

“That was really smart.” Her eyes snap up, meeting his hesitant gaze. “—with the highlighters. It was smart to teach her that.”

She shrugs. “I heard it somewhere.”

He smiles as they stand in the empty parking lot, comfortable silence stretching between them.

Suddenly, he asks, “Why are you helping her?” Lydia’s face falls, and he steps forward, his hands outstretched, “I mean, I really appreciate it, we all do. But, why?”

She stares at the gravel as she answers quietly, “Allison would want me to. She’d want me to help Malia study, and stay with Derek. Anything really, to help Scott.” She finally raises her head, her eyes glassy, “I’m trying to do what Allison would.”

Sometimes, he feels life settling back into a rhythm. They now live around werewolf and nogitsune shaped holes, but they all seem to keep moving forward, even when they weren’t sure they would or could.

And, then, something simple, like this, slams into his chest with a force of a train, and he feels the edges of his vision blur with the magnitude of what they’ve all survived, what they keep surviving.

“You know, Allison loved you,” he croaks out, his voice nearly breaking, “because you’re Lydia, not because you were like her.”

She swallows around the suddenly large lump in her throat. “Right. Because, I’m never gonna be a warrior, like her, or Malia, or Kira.”

He steps forwards quickly, his hands reaching for her and sliding down her arms.

“No. God, that’s not what I meant, Lydia.” He shakes his head, trying to find the right words. “I just meant, Allison loved you because of what you are. You’re a genius. You’re the one who figures it out. You and I might not brandish swords or claws, but they need us just as much.” He ducks his head, his hand still circling her wrist. “I think we’ve learned better than most, some of these battles are for our minds.”

She turns her hand, wrapping it around his wrist and squeezing lightly.

He raises his head and meets her gaze.

“You’re a warrior, Lydia. The best kind. Allison knew that. We all know that.”

She stares at their linked arms, holding onto each other like a lifeline.

She doesn’t want to say what comes next, but she knows she needs to. She’ll never know how he can continually wear his heart on his sleeve, but she’ll try to take some of his bravery and give it back to him.

“She makes you smile.”

“What?”

Taking a steadying breath, she raises her head and meets his gaze. “You asked why I’m helping Malia. She makes you smile.” His brows furrow and his hand tightens around her arm. “You know, we almost lost you, too. I like seeing you smile again.” She drops her gaze, letting go of his arm. “I like seeing you again.”

Reluctantly, he drops her wrist, but doesn’t move back, his own eyes suddenly shining with tears.

“I’m not going anywhere, Martin.”

She smiles and tilts her head, sliding into her car. “I’m counting on it.”


End file.
